


No Way Out

by took_skye



Series: Living For the Night [12]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, F/M, Groping, Gunplay, Interrogation, Non Consensual, POV Female Character, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-08
Updated: 2011-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:12:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/took_skye/pseuds/took_skye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective George Foyet tries, once more, to get information out of PI Hotchner's secretary, Penelope Garcia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Way Out

  
_"They called you 'Sugar', 'cause you liked to give it out...so sweet." ~ Ed Exley, L.A. Confidential_

***///***

I sit in the steel chair with crossed legs and sore wrists. This isn’t my first time but certain things tell me it could be my last. The florescent lights overhead hum a warning. My left leg shakes as if in the midst of a seizure the rest of my body hasn’t begun yet. Nothing can stop it: not the weight of my other leg, not my hands pressing on it, and not my foot flattening itself into the floor. And there’s the heat: it’s stifling in here, as if this is a room in hell. Maybe it is. If David Bowie is God, surely George Foyet is Satan.

I hear metal rub against itself and click as the door is opened from the outside. My eyes stay low, skimming over the table to the floor towards the door. Hotch and Morgan explained to me the rules of a game like this: I don’t need to win, I need only to survive.

“Hey there, Penny.” His tone is light, friendly.

I look at my lap. “Officer."

“We got interrupted the last time. I’d like to finish the interview.” I look up and the moment my eyes brush his face, his lips curl about in a way that recalls the time The Grinch got a wonderful, awful, idea. “Don’t worry," he continues, voice soft. "We can keep it off the record. I even stopped the tapes.”

Alarm bells sound in every part of me. My eyes widen and Foyet starts to chuckle. _It’ll sound like he’s doing you a favor, Penelope,_ Hotch had explained. Morgan then picked up with the cutting addition, _but it just means he can do whatever he wants and there won’t ever be any record of it._

“Penny,” he sing-songs me back into focus. "What’s the matter? You seem nervous.” He leans on the table a little and it creaks in response. “You’re not nervous, are you?”

“What did you want to ask me, Officer?”

He repeats himself slow and steady, as if I were a child that simply wasn’t paying attention. “You’re not nervous, are you?”

“No.”

He sprawls back in his chair, his eyes set on mine. His eyebrows lift. “You’re not a very good liar.”

I always like that posture on Morgan, relaxed and without a care in the world, but on Foyet it’s different: defiant and arrogant, proclaiming just how untouchable and in charge he is. Also it displays his crotch, which gives me an ick.

“I did some research on you.” He flings a file onto the table I didn’t notice before. It slides across the pitted surface and spins to a stop in front of me. "Seems you were a bad, bad, girl in your youth.”

“I did what I had to to survive.”

“Illegal wire-tapping and bugging, fraud, you were a right grifter.” He sits forward, ticks his head to one side. “Is that why Hotchner hired you?" His voice, low and confidential, turns the question into something dirty. "For those...skills...of yours?”

“He hired me because I’m polite and pleasant on the phone and can type more words per minute than you can speak per hour.”

A chuckle bubbles up through his throat. He slinks off the chair. "You keep this up," he says, still chuckling, "and I’m going to think it’s because you gave the best head or something.”

My head snaps up. “What?"

“Oh, come on.” Foyet shrugs some as he makes his way around the table. "It’s not like it’s completely unheard of. A secretary taking…dictation…after hours.”

I glare at him. “I don't have to fuck to get a job.”

He chuckles. “Well...he didn’t hire you just because you’re a nice person and can type fast. He could’ve gotten that from plenty of girls.” He bends low, bringing his mouth to my seated height. "Plus the blowjobs,” he continues, standing once more. "But he did hire you, despite your record, and I wonder why.”

"Why don't you ask him?"

The first touch is so soft I’d think it was the wind if the room had any air. It brushes back my hair, renewing a fresh burst of gooseflesh, and with a curious amount of care it tucks the red bits and pieces behind my ears. "Maybe I will."

I shiver in spite of the heat. “Y-I…” I take a deep breath to calm myself but it exits in a shuddery mess. I bite my bottom lip.

His fingertips flick the miniature Valentine-styled hearts dangling there. He inhales the scant air cushion between us and slowly releases it back in hot breath across my neck and left ear. “You smell like strawberries.”

Tears fill my eyes. The cracks in the off-white wall double, treble as hot water spills across my cheeks. My makeup’s going to be a mess. I feel a firm hand on my shoulder, strong and smooth and sure of its movements as it slithers across my neck, down my collarbone. It clutches the matching heart necklace nestled between my breasts.

I grit my teeth. “Get your hand off me.”

He smirks. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll fucking cut it off.”

A blast of breath stirs my hair. The sound that curls itself into my ears would be a moan if it were human. “You said that like you actually meant it.”

My face turns up toward him. “I did.”

“Did you now?” He plucks the pendant, turns the heart this way and that, thumb caressing it as if it had a secret scrawled on it to find. “I like this side of you, Penny,” he hisses soft and low. “I bet Derek never gets to see this side.” Heated breath turns to warm lips on the curvature between neck and shoulder. He nuzzles my hairline. “I bet not even those you fuck see this side of you.”

I go into my mind and turn fear into hate, his taunts into fuel, and I keep staring, glaring, straight at that wall. “Not unless they piss me off.”

“Is that what I’m doing? Pissing you off?” His fingers close around the plastic heart, suffocating it. “Did you know how alike the body reacts to hate and lust? Fear too.” Another dark chuckle vibrates in my ear. “The body heats up, the blood starts pumping fast and hard, there’s a shortness of breath.” He pauses, pants hard into my ear. "And then there’s the heart…” He presses the little heart into my breast. "The heart slams against the ribcage as if fighting for freedom.”

His hand curls, gathering flesh into its grasp. He squeezes as his lips press once again to my neck, this time giving suck. My neck and shoulder muscles tighten, cringe, try to prevent him access as I grimace. I let my eyes leave the wall and skitter over to the door.

"There’s just one difference." Fingers curl up, slip beneath my neckline, and spread out over bare flesh. My hearts pound into each other, fight to push one off the other. “It’s where that blood rushes,” his voice huffs out.

I don’t even have to wonder if anyone’s on the other side because it doesn’t matter if there is. No one’s coming to save me. I close my eyes and imagine another man’s hand massaging my chest.

“So tell me, Baby Girl, where’s your ruby red life force rushing to?” A sharp flick of Foyet’s tongue loosens a shudder and chokes a sob from me. “Mm. You even taste like strawberries.”

Huskiness creeps into my voice. "W-Wouldn't you like to know."

His teeth tease at my lobe. "Yeah."

I pray to Bowie that this stop. That someone remove the snake slithering its limbs across my curves as his weight presses deeper into me. My heart pounds, flooding me with revulsion. I turn my cheek toward him, feel his breath scrape the powder on my skin. "If you're gonna fuck me," I murmur, "why don't you go ahead and do it?"

“You still need to tell me what it is… _exactly_ …that you do for,” his syllables become pants, “Private Investigator Aaron Hotchner.”

“Who are you more interested in, officer?” I let one corner of my lips lift slightly. “Me or Aaron?”

His next laugh melts into a moan. “Depends on the interest.” A new hand pulls at my collar causing more skin to rise up in cold fear. “But only one of you gets me hard.” Lips thinned in amusement make their mark in new spots.

“Aaron?”

“You tell me what I want to know and you’ll never have to find out.” He swivels his face to mine. “You tell me what I want to know and you go free, Penny. I won’t even say it was you who talked to me. Deal?”

“I’d rather get fucked.” I snarl through a locked jaw.

His smile leaves and the muscles in his arm wrapped around my body, groping it, clench, crushing me into the chair some. “That’s a real option,” he hisses low and threatening.

There’s a click of a snap being undone. I close my eyes once again. “Tell me, Pen, are you still as terrified of guns as you were at our first meeting?” The metal barrel sets itself against the outside of my thigh. Even with my skirt as barrier it is the coldest thing in the room next to whatever sludges its way through Officer Foyet’s veins. Click…click…cocked. The man’s gun leaves a trail of chills as it glides to the inside. “Aaron Hotchner…”

“Just shoot me.” It’s a wild gamble, a shot in the dark, but its better than nothing and its better than betrayal.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m never telling you what you want to know. Ever.”

“You’re in no position to be denying me anything." He makes his point in a thrust with the gun. "Don’t be foolish.”

A harsh horn blasts from all sides. My lids lift, eyes dare to dream as they dart to the door. Light flashes from the crack between steel and floor. Time stops a moment, then speeds forward. The hands leave, the heart drops, the man stands. Foyet’s soles slap the ceramics of the floor. The door opens wide and air rushes in to protect me.

“I’m with a witness!” Foyet bawls.

“Cut her loose and clear out, damnit, that’s an order!”

I’m tossed back out into the world like a guppy. He sneers, eyes glittering with the promise of another chat. He looks me over and I feel the staining sensation of lips against my skin. He's got my heart, the pendant I’ve had for years, but it can’t be helped. It’s a small price to pay.

***///***

 _"Though nothing will drive them away./We can beat them, just for one day./We can be heroes, just for one day." ~ David Bowie, Heroes_


End file.
